


Revelation

by antivaisforlovers



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 13:40:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3531350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antivaisforlovers/pseuds/antivaisforlovers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the escape from Haven, Cullen gets word that the Herald is, in fact, still alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Revelation

Everyone was still reeling from the attack on Haven. It came from nowhere, and _Maker_ , was it brutal. They lost so many. They lost the Herald. What were they to do now?

Cullen was having a difficult time wrapping his head around it all. He was seated near a fire pit in the makeshift camp he and the rest of the survivors had set up, staring at the burning coals as he went over the day’s events. Try as he might, he could not shake the feeling that he could have done more, despite the words of assurance to the contrary that Cassandra and Leliana had given him. His thoughts drifted to those they’d lost, most notably the Herald—no. Avrae.

The first time he met her, when she and Cassandra jumped in to aid him and his men against a number of demons, he had suspected something different about her—aside from the fact that she’d just closed one of the fade rifts with her hand, of course. There was an eagerness about her, a strong sense of curiosity that he found interesting. She was an elf, and the Dalish were not known for their fondness of humans, after all. Still, he treated her with caution, this new unknown that could potentially heal the ravaged sky above them. Try as he might, he didn’t know what to make of her.

The following weeks changed that. She quickly came into her own and accepted her new role, proving to everyone that she was more than capable, and more than willing to learn what she didn’t know. He was intrigued by her thirst for knowledge, always surprised by the depth of her questioning. He found himself growing fond of her—even amidst the growing turmoil surrounding them, Avrae was constantly a breath of fresh air, greeting everyone with a smile, always making sure that everyone had what they needed, insisting she be called by her name rather than her title. He began looking forward to the times that she would come to chat, which had been growing in frequency as of late. He grew eager to answer her questions and ask some of his own, and the flirtatious banter she always seemed to initiate was refreshing. Time after time he found himself in higher spirits by the time she left.

It wasn’t until she commanded him to get everyone out of Haven through the tunnels, eyes full of fright, sorrow, and determination as she ran off to face Corypheus herself that he realized that perhaps his feelings for her went a bit deeper than simple friendship. As he watched her sprint from the Chantry he felt his stomach sink and twist, his heart pounding wildly as worst case scenarios ran through his head without warning, fighting the overwhelming urge to run after her. Instead he did his best to push her to the back of his mind, turning his focus to herding everyone to safety, but not before sending out one silent prayer— _Maker, bring her back_.

But his prayer had gone unanswered. Now, sitting by the fire with his head in his hands, there was nothing to distract him. The whole camp was quiet, save for the crackling of the flames, and Cullen couldn’t keep his mind away from the what-ifs and what-could-have-beens. He should have done something, _anything_ , gone after her, stopped her from running off in the first place, she was _too selfless_ , he should have—

“Commander! Lady Cassandra! Come quick!”

Cullen stood quickly as Leliana and Cassandra rushed to him, watching as one of the spymaster’s scouts came running in their direction. He stopped in front of them, out of breath but trying to speak. “It’s… it’s her! She’s… we have to go!”

Leliana began to question the scout, but Cullen understood and had only one question: _“Where?”_

As soon as the scout pointed towards the pass they’d traveled through to escape Haven, Cullen set off at a run with Cassandra right behind him. When they rounded the bend the Herald came into view. Upon seeing them, she fell limply to her knees then slumped forward onto the ground, finally succumbing to cold and exhaustion.

Cullen was the first to reach her, sitting her in an upright position as he hastily removed his fur mantle and wrapped it around her. He scooped her into his arms effortlessly, tightening the cloak around her as he hurried back to the camp. As he hastened his steps he examined her face—skin red and raw from the howling, snowy wind, lips beginning to turn a pale blue. He felt her stir, and saw her eyes flutter open, though just barely. She peered up at him, gaze unfocused, and whispered his name hoarsely, a strained, almost unnoticeable smile pulling at the corners of her pale lips.

When she dropped her head to his shoulder, unconscious once more, he tightened his arms around her as he listened to her slow, shallow breaths, murmuring comfortingly, “I have you now. I promise everything will be alright.”

Cassandra began barking orders as soon as they reached the camp, directing Mother Giselle to gather as many blankets as she could, and instructing Varric to find Solas. Leliana had laid out a bedroll, and she ushered Cullen towards it when he approached. After gently settling Avrae onto the mat, he knelt next to her, doing his best to tuck as many blankets around her as quickly as he could. He could feel the eyes of his companions on him, and at any other time he would have cared, would have awkwardly explained away his actions as nothing more than simple concern for the Herald. But now… now, all he could focus on was her breathing, which was becoming more and more shallow by the minute.

He looked up. “We have to do something, Cassandra. _Now_.”

As if on cue, Solas was there, and Cullen leapt to his feet. “Tell me you can do something. You can help, right?”

The elf knelt next to Avrae, pulling blankets off of her. “I may be able to, Cullen. But it depends on how deep the cold has gone.” His hands, now glowing the bright white-blue of healing magic, were positioned over her stomach and chest as he looked up. “I’m sorry Commander,” he said calmly. “I need to concentrate, with no distractions.”

Cullen didn’t hear him. He was staring at her placid, colorless face, sending every silent prayer he could muster to the Maker and whatever other higher powers may or may not be listening. It wasn’t until he felt Cassandra’s tug on his arm that he managed to stumble from the tent.

He sat hunched over with the rest of her companions near the fire, hands folded in his lap as his leg bounced impatiently, staring into the rippling glow of the embers with unseeing eyes. Minutes passed, then hours, everyone shifting uncomfortably as their shared fear seemingly became reality.

And then Solas was emerging from the tent, wiping perspiration from his brow as everyone got to their feet. He said nothing, but gave the group a reassuring smile with one small nod. Everyone sighed, laughing and smiling with relief, but when they started towards the tent, Solas held up his hands. “I know you’d like to see her,” he  said to the crowd, “But right now she needs to rest.”

Cullen was the last to turn away to leave, but Solas quickly caught him by the shoulder. “Commander, a moment? The severe cold took a toll on her physically, as I’m sure you can imagine, and so she’s been in and out of consciousness. However, the last time she was lucid, she spoke your name.” As Cullen blinked at him, Solas moved to the side and motioned to the tent.

Cullen tentatively entered, and the door flap closed behind him.  In the light of the candles positioned nearby, he could see Avrae laying on the bedroll, covered in an abundance of blankets. As he approached her he let out a choked laugh—gone was the sickly hue in her skin. Her tanned color was back, though still red from the bitter wind, and her many freckles were prominent once again.

He sat on the ground next to her, unsure of what to do, so he watched her. He took note of the rise and fall of her chest, the fluttering of her eyelids as she dreamt, her wind-chapped lips open so slightly as she breathed. He also took note of the sensation in his stomach, a feeling that he recognized but had eluded him for quite some time. He decided that was a matter for another time as she stirred, sleepily opened her eyes, and met his.

“Cullen.” Her voice was raspy, but she didn’t seem to mind. She brought a hand out from under the blankets and rubbed her eyes. When she tried to sit up, he quickly reached forward and put a hand on her shoulder.

“Please Avrae,” he coaxed with a smile. “You need to rest. I won’t have Solas in here scolding me for letting you up.”

Her eyes narrowed at him as she offered a smirk, settling back onto her pillow. “You just used my name.”

Even in the dim light she could see him flush. “Ah, yes. I suppose I did. That’s alright, isn’t it?”

“I’ve been asking you to call me by name for weeks,” she chuckled tiredly. “So yes, it’s just fine.”

“I’m… very glad to see you’re alright,” he said, grasping for something to say. “I was very—I mean, that is to say, _we_ were very worried for you.”

She smiled at him but said nothing, though he thought he noticed the tips of her long ears reddening. They sat in silence for a moment, Avrae plucking at a thread from a blanket, and Cullen staring at his hands in his lap, glancing up at her now and then when she wasn’t looking. She was struggling to stay awake so he decided to take his leave, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“You, ah, need to rest. I’ll check on you later—.”

“You found me… didn’t you?” Her voice was thick with sleep, eyelids drooping, and when she moved her hand towards him, he held it in his without a second thought.

“I did.”

She nodded slowly, lips pulling up into a small smile, and closed her eyes. “I’m glad it was you.”

The words were barely a whisper as she slipped back into a deep sleep, but they hit Cullen like a rallying cry.

He looked at her incredulously but smiled despite it as he brought her hand to his lips and whispered “As am I.”


End file.
